


Practice Makes Perfect

by chrystal896



Series: The Grace of Yavanna [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bilbo and Fili are buds., Bilbo is remarkably good at his job, Bilbo stays at the mountain, Crack, Everybody Lives, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Nori didn't do it, Theft, for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 08:30:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3522476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrystal896/pseuds/chrystal896
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Companion piece to Dead Until Proven Alive but can be read as a stand alone. </p><p>Fíli has a difficult time keeping track of his weapons on his journey to Erebor. They disappear with frightening regularity but always return when he needs them the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practice Makes Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. As always, I don't own LOTR or the Hobbit. I just like to dabble.  
> 2\. This is un-betaed and if there are any mistakes for the love of Mahal, please tell me.  
> 3\. If you haven't read Dead Until Proven Alive, you might want to because it's a continuation/expansion of that story prompted by one of the comments left by one of my lovely readers.  
> 4\. Speaking of which, kudos and comments are love, people! You never know what they are going to inspire me to write next!

It had started out innocently enough.

“Kíli, give it back.”

Looking up from where he had been resaddling his pony, Kíli looked at his brother in surprise. “Give what back?”

“My favorite dagger. Hand it over.”

As Fíli glared at him, Kíli shrugged his shoulders. “For once, I didn’t take it. Go ask Nori.”  
Fíli eyed him with suspicion, but as Kíli seemed to be telling the truth (he did do that occasionally, though Dwalin would swear differently) he did as his brother suggested and tracked down the resident thief.

“Oi, that’s a fine thing. Blaming me for losing that fancy dagger of yours.” Nori snapped as he used one of his own knives to scrape some mud off his boots. “What do I need yours for? I got plenty of my own.”

“That dagger was part of a set that belonged to my father,” Fíli snapped. “I want it back.”

Standing up swiftly, Nori put himself nose to nose with Fíli and stared at him firmly. “I don’t nick from anyone in this crew ‘cept Dwalin and Dori, you got that?”

Ducking, Fíli barely managed to escape being stabbed by one of Nori’s hairy peaks. He hadn’t spent much time with the pointy-haired thief and he still wasn’t entirely sure he trusted him. Thorin did, or he wouldn’t be on this quest, but Fíli couldn’t help but notice that Nori hadn’t exactly answered his question.

“What’s the matter, Fíli?” a soft voice at his elbow caused his head to jerk up from where he’d been searching the ground near their bedrolls.

“Someone took my dagger,” he grumbled, rolling up his bedroll with jerking movements.

Having seen the small arsenal that Fíli carried with him at all times, Bilbo quirked an eyebrow. “With as much as you carry, how on earth could you tell?”

“It was our father’s.” Kíli said, coming up beside him. 

Bilbo’s face fell. “Oh, I’m sorry. No wonder you’re upset. Maybe it slipped into someone else’s pack? When did you last have it?”

“I used it while I was whittling last night.”

They were interrupted by Thorin’s call to move out and Fíli finished tying off his pack to his pony. 

“You never know, it might turn up.” Bilbo said encouragingly from beside him, balancing precariously on Myrtle. It was a few weeks in to their quest and Bilbo had finally managed to get the hang of a walk. He fervently hoped that he would never have to get her up to a gallop.

Surprisingly enough it had. When Fíli checked his weapons before heading out to guard the ponies with Kíli, he’d found it, tucked safely away in his saddle bag. He slid it home with a sigh of relief, but thoroughly confused. Kíli claimed no knowledge and Nori’s eyes had narrowed dangerously when Fíli had even attempted to ask about it.

Then there were trolls and wargs and suddenly they were in the middle of an elven stronghold. 

“Damn it!”

Thorin looked askance at him as they tossed their gear down on the beds provided by the elves. Thorin, Fíli and Kíli, as heirs to the mountain had been given their own rooms but had chosen to room together instead. Safety in numbers and all that. 

Catching his look, Fíli held up one dagger and then an empty hand. “Someone’s done it again.”

Placing the remaining dagger in Thorin’s outstretched hand, he watched as his uncle ran his finer along the edge thoughtfully. “Víli was a good swordsmith, but his gem work was unparalleled. You say it’s gone missing before?”

Fíli could see that Thorin dearly wanted to blame the elves for stealing, but Fíli couldn’t bring himself to let the elves take the fall for someone in their company being a petty thief. 

“It happened before we ever hit the trolls, Uncle. The elves didn’t do anything this time.”

Thorin grunted and handed it back carefully, silver and green gems flashing in the setting sun. “If it was returned once, it may be returned again. I’ll have a word with the company.”

Shaking his head, Fíli returned the dagger to it’s holster. “I’d rather wait and see if I can catch them in the act.”

With a shrug and a “suit yourself,” Thorin wandered back out to glower at the elves and Fíli started trying to remember when he’d last noticed he had it. Whoever the thief was, they were extremely light on their feet and very subtle – 

Fíli’s eyes widened suddenly. Surely not. Determinedly he strode out the door, passing by his brother who watched him go with a quizzical look.

With nary a knock, he barged into the hobbit’s room. “What’d you do with it?”

Bilbo yelped and jerked his shirt down over his head. “Do what with what?” His hair was mussed and damp; he’d clearly just gotten back from the baths.

“My dagger,” Fíli snapped, his eyes darting around the room suspiciously. “Dori wouldn’t because of Nori. Nori wouldn’t because of Ori. Ori wouldn’t because he’s too scared of Dori and Thorin. Dwalin wouldn’t because he has his own. Balin wouldn’t because he knows how much it means to me. The rest don’t have the stealth to pull it off.”

As the rant continued, Bilbo’s eyes crossed trying to parse out what on earth Fíli was talking about.

“Did you lose your dagger again?” He finally asked cautiously, setting out the rest of his clothes to, hopefully, be cleaned.

“Lose? No, I don’t think it’s lost. Someone took it.”

“We’ve been on the run a lot lately, it could have fallen out.” Bilbo said pragmatically, flopping on the fluffy bed with a happy sigh. How he had missed beds.

“I know for a fact that I had it when we reached Rivendell,” Fíli shot back. “And now it’s gone and why do I have the feeling that you might have had something to do with that?”

“I really have no idea,” Bilbo replied blandly as he stretched out on the bed. He was warm and comfortable for the first time in weeks and he fully intended on making for as many missed naps as he could. “You saw what a mess I was with that little sword Gandalf gave me. Why would I want a second one.”

Fíli glared at him and seethed.

“That dagger had better be returned to me soon or so help me I will make sure you sleep between Bombur, Gloin, and Oin for the rest of the journey.”

Bilbo sat up sharply. “You wouldn’t.”

“Not if I have my dagger,” Fíli shot back with a determined look.

“I told you, I don’t have your dagger.”

“Well then you’d better help me figure out who took it otherwise you are going to pay the price. That dagger is more important to me than anything else I own.”

“Fine, fine! I’ll help you find it. Just for the love of Yavanna, let me be able to sleep between now and Erebor.”

“Dagger first. Sleep later.”

Once Fíli had made it out the door, he slipped around a corner and settled in to wait. And wait. And wait.

The hobbit didn’t leave his rooms until a pointy eared elf knocked politely on the door inviting him to the evening meal. Fíli followed behind them, his eyes boring into Bilbo’s back. Bilbo seemed ignorant of it though and chattered happily to the elf who was smiling indulgently at him.

As Fíli settled in next to Kíli at the low table, he heard someone call his name. “Fíli! Catch.” Something came whizzing through the air and Fíli reached up automatically, snagging the spinning dagger out of the air. He glared suspiciously at Bofur who shrugged. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t take it. Found it tucked in my boot after I got out of the bath.”

Carefully, he tucked it back into place and glared down the table at Bilbo. The hobbit wrinkled his nose and looked guilelessly up at Fíli. “Does this mean I get to bed down by you guys instead?” he asked hopefully, digging into his salad with relish. 

“As long as it doesn’t disappear again,” Fíli said grudgingly poking at his own salad with huff of disgust. He’d never been to keen on vegetables, most dwarrows weren’t, with the exception of Bifur. He eyed the ‘Ur cousin with narrowed eyes, wondering if maybe he had been too quick to dismiss the three jovial members of their company. Bifur ignored him and continued nibbling on a centerpiece as content as a rabbit in a carrot patch. The elf behind him, watching as his artful arrangement disappeared piece by piece, considerably less so.

Miraculously, he still had both daggers after they’d managed to escape with the help of the eagles.

It wasn’t until they reached Beorn’s that he realized one of his other daggers had gone missing. He didn’t even bat an eye. It had never done him any good to lay blame at anyone’s feet and if the pattern held, it would be returned within a matter of hours. At least this time, it wasn’t one of his father’s pieces.

Sure enough, it had reappeared. And so it went, every other week or so, another one of his weapons would disappear and reappear. He thought he would get a reprieve when all of their weapons were confiscated by the elves, for he had none left. Not even his father’s daggers, which incensed him even more than Thorin was at losing Orcrist. 

On the outskirts of Dale, another weapon disappeared. This time it was a short sword. He studied each member of the company carefully but none of them were wearing much that could conceal it, especially not Bilbo. However, before they entered the mountain, it reappeared, artfully arranged on his bedroll.

“Good luck, Burglar.” Thorin murmured, clapping Bilbo on the shoulder. Bilbo nodded and squared his shoulders, but not before shooting a small grin over his shoulder at Fíli and Kíli. 

“Don’t worry, lads. I think luck’ll be on my side tonight.” He quipped trying to be brave but failing miserably as he gulped in the middle of his sentence.

“If anyone can steal out from underneath a dragon’s nose, it would be you, Bilbo.” Fíli said seriously. He’d never given up the idea that Bilbo was behind the thefts, but he’d never been able to catch the hobbit in the act.

Bilbo nodded quietly and with a deep breath disappeared into the pitch black tunnel, guided only by Balin and Thorin’s descriptions of where to find the treasure hoard.

Later, after the death of the dragon, the death of the orcs, and Bilbo had mysteriously risen from the dead (Fíli was still trying to work that one out), he finally cornered the hobbit.

“So. Why’d you do it?”

“Do what?” Bilbo murmured absently as he stirred a pot in the recently unearthed kitchen. Whatever he was cooking smelled heavenly and Fíli felt his mouth start to water.

“Why’d you keep stealing my weapons? I know it was you.”

At that, Bilbo finally looked up and grinned, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Honestly? The first time was to see if I could do it. You lot had just told me I needed to steal from a dragon. Despite Gandalf’s claims, I’d never stolen a thing in my life before that dagger. I’ve gotten rather good at it, don’t you think?”

He smiled cheekily up at Fíli and handed him a bowl. “Try the soup and let me know what it needs.”

Still staring at Bilbo, Fíli moved toward the pot automatically before a rattling caught his attention. Looking suspiciously into his bowl, he dipped his fingers in and pulled out one of his silver beads with a bemused look.

“Still practicing, I see.” He said dryly, pocketing the bead before filling his bowl. “Why only me?”

“You and Kíli were always the nicest too me and quite honestly I was terrified of the rest for the longest time. By the time I was comfortable around everyone else, I’d already gotten into the habit of nicking from you. It helped that you didn’t get mad. Dwalin would have ripped me apart and Nori would have stabbed me in my sleep.”

Fíli couldn’t fault the logic. Bilbo continued with a grin, “either way, it helped to have someone to practice on, so thanks for that. In fact, you could say that thanks to you, the dwarrows have their kingdom back.”

Laughing, Fíli tried the soup and groaned. “Tell you what, if you keep cooking like this, you can steal whatever you want from me.”

Bilbo shook his head and grinned. “No thank you. I’ve already got another target in mind.” He held up his hand and Fíli tilted his head closer before snickering. In the hobbit’s hand lay one of Thorin’s clasps. 

“Think he’ll notice?”

A bellow rose from down the hallway and Bilbo smirked before the clasp vanished in a move Fíli almost couldn’t follow. Pulling something from another pocket, Bilbo vanished and Fíli blinked in surprise.

“You never saw me and I was never here,” the disembodied voice wafted from where Bilbo had once stood and like that, Fíli was left alone in the kitchen, his bowl of soup cooling rapidly.

“Have you seen my clasp?”

Fíli turned to face an exasperated Thorin and offered up an innocent smile.

“What? Is it missing, uncle?”

Thorin shook his head and Fíli watched in amusement as his hair covered his face. “Obviously,” Thorin growled. “Not just one, the whole lot. When I find who’s taken it, I’m going to tear them apart.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Fíli parroted with an evil grin, “I’m sure it’ll turn up eventually.” 

Thorin eyed his nephew suspiciously, but all Fíli did was spoon more soup into his mouth, his eyes glinting in amusement. With a growl, Thorin spun on his heel and marched off looking as dignified as he could while his hair swirled around him.

Fíli watched him go and snickered to himself. Thorin was certainly in trouble. When Bilbo was determined about something, he was nearly unstoppable. He’d already stolen the arkenstone and the heart of dwarven king. Who knew what he’d steal next?

 

*Epilogue*

The restoration of Erebor was not going to be easy. Sure there was the amusement of Bilbo and Thorin dancing around each other, suddenly unsure of their burgeoning relationship. A relationship that was made even more amusing as Bilbo had taken to stealing anything and everything of Thorin’s that was not nailed down.

Despite the levity, clearing the mountain was no small task. Every day brought something that caused another ripple of pain and loss to surge among the encamped dwarrows. There were always new bodies discovered as they began to clear the rubble from nearby halls and rooms. It would be a long time before they truly reclaimed Erebor and the damage wrought by the dragon would be long remembered. It was long and tiring work and most days, all the dwarrows wanted to do was find their bedroll and crash.

A sniff alerted Kíli that something was wrong and he wandered over from his place by the fire, coming up behind Fíli who was cradling something against his chest, his eyes damp.

“What’s wrong?” Kíli asked worriedly, peering over his shoulder before he let out a gasp.

Fíli held up the twin pair of daggers he thought he’d never see again, their jewels flashing in the firelight. They had been placed carefully beneath the blankets of his bedroll.

“Da’s daggers,” Kíli breathed, reaching out to touch them reverently. “I thought the elves took them.”

“Someone must have stolen them back,” Fíli said roughly, placing them in his arm sheaths once more. “No doubt one of those pointy-eared bastards had them during the battle.” He sighed happily as he twisted his arms, feeling complete once more.

“And you know who?” Kíli asked curiously.

Fíli just shook his head. “A friend,” he murmured softly, settling down onto his bedroll with a sigh. He’d show them to Thorin in the morning. Kíli looked miffed but left it alone, settling onto his own bedroll next to his brother. At least they had their father’s daggers back. That was all that mattered. With that comforting thought, he rolled over and joined his brother in sleep. All was right with the world.

As Fíli lay there staring at the flickering firelight, he quirked a smile as he realized that they were a thank you from Bilbo for his help, both on the quest and with Thorin. As always, the daggers had shown up when he needed them the most.


End file.
